Dare to write challenge
by Itisariddle
Summary: Dare to write is a challenge on tumblr created by the amazing Ibuzoo. Here you will find my short ones shots/drabbles for the 500 prompts. Various pairings and themes.
1. Vile Romance (Ginny Weasley xTom Riddle

**A/N:** **The credit for the Dare to Write challenge goes to Ibuzoo. I want to do all 500 prompts.**

 **This one is dedicated to Colubrina who makes me aspire to be a better writer and a better human every day.**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, no money being made**

 **1\. Vile romance**

 _Tom Riddle x Ginny Weasley_

Somewhere in the Middle is a box. In the box is a boy. Outside the box is a girl and wind that spits rain on her face.

It is an old-fashioned kind of story.

The boy sits in the box his hands on his knees, spine straight and burnt back to cold tiles. The box is a dark prison but Tom Riddle is used to darkness.

He uses the time to think. Outside the wind is howling as it does sometimes. Inside the walls weep pure straight lines of clear water. He closes his mouth and bites at the inside of his cheek. His mouth is dry as sandpaper and his skin burns. He thinks of bright eyes and lines on a young face and bloody hands. He sleeps.

The girl stands on two empty feet in a skirt to her knees and her red hair plastered to her cheeks. The smell of burnt flesh is in her nose and her mouth. She thinks. And in her mind she can see dark eyes and pale cheeks and blood sticking to her fingers. Everything is easy when you have the right teacher.

 _Did he show her enough?_ Tom is not sure and it is this uncertainty that makes him thirst for her. How much more he could teach her. He bites his lips and tastes the burnt sweetness of old blood. His lips remember softness and taste like petals silk and dust on her skin.

She wept for him. A long time ago, perhaps before she understood. Now there are no tears anymore. She is filled and empty all at once. Ginny Weasley is complete. The seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. She is power and lightning and endlessness. She crosses the water on lighted feet unaffected by the dark creatures around it

His guards fled for her. Tom Riddle lifts an eyebrow. He had not expected that. There is a moment in which the only sound is the scream of a key in a lock. He watches the door part from the wall unaffected. Tom Riddle stands, his dark eyes settle on her live form. He breathes in air filled with her sweet scent. Some part of him hurts, the part that despises the dependency he has on her. He pulls out a lock of ginger, clean hair.

She walks on wounds from long ago and creates new ones. She sees him finally as he has seen her always. She is a monster, and when he parts her tights she bares her teeth and screams.

He smiles.

He did teach her enough.

In the Middle is a box. In the box is a girl. Outside the box is a boy and fire reflected in his eyes.

It is an old-fashioned kind of story.


	2. Immortality (Harry Potter x Tom Riddle)

Immortality.

Harry Potter watches birds circle on top of a blue blue sky and thinks the word with desperation.

It is a word with texture, the taste of it is copper and thick on his lips. The tongue makes a projection from the upper position down like a pistol shot. Immortality. The word that defies death.

Death is his friend, his partner and lover. He knows it like a child knows the voice of his mother, perhaps he knows it better even. It is after all the word that has replaced his mother's screaming in his dreams.

Now he is the one who screams.

Behind him the dark figure of death stretches out one pale finger and touches it to the base of Harry's skull,the place that remembers childhood. Harry shivers under that touch. The fingers are warm and spread slowly into his hair bringing him closer.

Immortality.

There is a beating heart beneath his fingertips and a taste of blood on his mouth. Death is his lover tonight.

Harry Potter knows death from the first breath. The boy who lived is born in death. First there was the word of his death and the word was heard and the word brought death.

He watches dark eyes swim in and out of focus before him. The eyes of death cold and unkind and immortal. He has brought immortality as a gift, a cloak he brought, a stone and a wand.

And death has taken them.

He kneels before death and allows cool fingers to tangle in his hair. His body is trembling

And he who is the harbinger of death knows his purpose.


	3. Teenage crimes (Drarry)

**For disillusionist9 on her special day.**

Harry Potter stood in front of the castle, stared at its open doors and counted time. He as hoping for a miracle solution, something that would get his body moving force it to step inside.

It was after all just a school. It was just a building, stones and dirt and rough edges and nothing as alive as his mind was showing him.

After tonight, After tonight he would never have to see this building. All he needed was just to cross the threshold, play a part and he would b done. Done forever if he wanted it. Harry gripped the wand in his fist tighter, his other hand flat on his chest on the breast pocket of his shirt, on the coin hidden there. The coin all graduate students got.

McGonagall had given him the coin a week ago along with instructions on how to behave during the graduation ceremony where he was supposed to hand the coin over to Hermione. Hermione who actually went back and finished their final year. Hermione who was graduating. Harry sighed McGonagall had not even tried to hide her disappointment and he had not had the guts to tell her that not graduating had nothing to do with vanity in his case.

Returning to Hogwarts for another year, to have to walk the halls and sit in class and be a student felt to him like an impossible feat. He simply couldn't do it, so he had used the famous Harry Potter name and gotten a famous Harry Potter early admission to Auror school. The only thing that had gotten him was another bunch of people staring at his scar but surrounded by different walls.

'Going to stand there all night are you Potter?'

Harry shuddered. The hand that had been gripping his wand seemed to become a thing outside of him with a will of his own. The curse left his lips before the was able to register the shocked expression on Draco Malfoy's face. He was not able to sidestep quite in time the curse graced his cheek a small line of clear blood welling up immediately. He overbalanced and landed on his side in the dirt. The shock in his eyes replaced itself with calculation his face closing even more.

Harry sprang into action running to Malfoy's side but the blond was on his feet again, wand in hand,

'You startled me' Harry said watching him ' You're bleeding.'

Draco shrugged his gray eyes following Harry's every move. His posture was tense he stood perfectly still his wand still on Harry ' Wouldn't be the first time.'

' I am sorry' Harry said

Malfoy looked down his torn robes then put a hand to his cheek. ' Cutting me seems to be your favorite pastime Potter.'

'I didn't mean- You startled me. What are you doing here?'

Slowly very slowly Malfoy's tight stance started to relax. His wand lowered somewhat. Harry had to suppress the urge to pull out his own wand again. The alertness of being under attack hadn't left him he tried to breathe regularly and tear his eyes away from Malfoy.

'Unlike you Potter, I am graduating tonight.' Malfoy's traveled away from Harry's face and towards the pocket of his shirt 'Have you got the coin? Granger expressed some concern about your ability to perform tonight's task.' Malfoy smirked ' Repeatedly.' he added, his eyes catching Harry's again.

Harry felt himself smiling as he put out the coin and showed it to Malfoy. The gold glistened in the moonlight. Malfoy nodded reaching into a hidden pocket of his robes to produce a silver coin with strange markings upon it.

'Yours looks different' Harry said following Draco on the path to the castle.

'It is an old tradition' Malfoy said without turning. His blond hair danced in front of Harry who moved along at a slow pace not questioning how his legs started to work. You took the blessings when you got them and moved on, he had learned that lesson a long time ago.

'Some of these coins have been with certain families for generations.'

'The sacred 28 have different colored coins?'

Malfoy's shoulders tensed again. Harry bit his tongue.

'It depends on your house, or so the tradition tells it. At my home silver has always been valued as much as if not more than your gold.'

'How come you already have yours?' Harry asked. The two of them stopped right in front of the entrance. They could hear faint music coming from inside.

'My mother presented it to me earlier this evening' Draco said. There was a bitterness to his tone now. 'As it turns out I have not been able to secure a guest for tonight's gathering.' he added quickly his relaxed stance gone, all the muscles in his body were back on edge.

'I am sorry' Harry said. Malfoy turned to him his gray eyes catching Harry' noticed the cut on his cheek was gone. The skin was smooth again. All the wars and hell and Draco Malfoy still looked like someone's version of money made human.

'You apologize so much for someone on the right side of the war Potter. Is that a habit or am I a special case?'

Harry opened his mouth to answer then closed it again. The music inside the castle seized.

'Are they starting?'

'Not for another hour.' Malfoy said. He seemed to gather himself before stepping over the threshold. Harry followed. The castle was alive around him within seconds. He did not see the rebuild walls all he saw was destruction, the smell of blood hit his nose although he knew that was impossible. His ears were ringing. He could feel Malfoy's hands on his shoulders gripping him tight. he worked his way towards the feel of those hands inch by slow inch until the world was no longer chaos.

'It's hard the first time. Being back here.' Malfoy said stepping was from him. His expression was carefully neutral but his eyes lasted on Harry a fraction too long so that he was able to see the old pain hidden there.

'You say I was on the right side' Harry choked out ' As if I had not made mistakes as if there are no people dead because of me.'

'They followed you because they believed in a cause.' Draco said. He walked along confidently towards the first flight of stairs in sight and then sat on the lowest step. Harry glanced towards the great hall.

'They will be expecting us. Even the ghost must be there already.'

'I don't feel like going in yet. But you go right ahead.' Draco said opting for a more comfortable position on the staircase.' The house elves will collect the graduates when it is time to start' he added.

'Hermione will love that.'

Harry sat down beside Draco ''You say they followed me.'

'I said they followed a cause' Draco paused to glance at him again 'and you' he added with a small smirk. Harry rolled his eyes watching Draco's lips move.

'They still died.'

'And the blood they spilled is on no one's hands. Me, I let death eaters into this castle. My hands Potter are as dirty as they can get.'

Harry reached out and took one of Draco's hands into his. The hand shook as Harry turned it around, palm up and traced a line ' I don't see any dirt' he said his thumb was making circles on the open palm now.

' Do you remember' Harry said.

Draco nodded.

'You don't even know what I was going to say' Harry said smiling His hands were warm now.

' I remember' Draco said quietly ' All of it.'

'You are not guilty'

Draco's lips moved as if he was about to say something than he=is mouth closed again. Harry's eyes rested on his face.

' We are not guilty. Draco we were kids.'

Draco took a deep breath.

'Stop preaching Potter. It's teenage crimes. Inside the great hall, the music started up again this time sounding more formal. They could see lights being put on extra bright. Back on the stairs, however, Draco Malfoy didn't pull his hand away from Harry's.


	4. Love is watching someone die (sevmione)

This is the first thing I wrote after Alan Rickman passed away. I couldn't work, write, do anything since his passing. Until I wrote this, it is not supposed to be good. It is not supposed to be anything. I am hoping it will be my way of getting back to myself though. Enjoy.

Work Text:

Love is watching someone die

1.

'Is she here again?' The blue haired healer whispers to the tiny blonde one in a tone that suggest she does not care who hears her.  
'Every. Day.' The other answers, her voice is more demure, she wants to talk but cannot and there is not blame in that. Gossip is a natural state for the human condition and it always wins.

Hermione Granger ignores it all.

Yes, she is here again. Yes, the spell preventing her access to the room is still activated; she tried it when she got here. The threshold repelled her as it did every day of the past month and she is kidding herself trying to think that this time the spell was weaker.

But he can't prevent her standing here and watching. He can't close the curtains on the enormous window, can't make the healers leave. He can't do anything lying there and Hermione thinks that it must be awful. That it must be the thing killing him, more than the snakebite is.  
She hugs herself placing her arms around herself until it gets painful and she stares and stares.

There were days, in the beginning, when he glared back at her. Days where his eyes moved and he tried to indicate to her with everything he had that she was not welcome.  
She got the hint. She always did, somehow, too late, but she always knew the right answer to his questions.

Now though it did not matter.

The spell preventing her access to the room is there but he no longer seems to care where she is. She can see his chest rise and fall but his eyes only open occasionally now and what he sees goes beyond her. She doubts. Maybe coming here is not about him anymore.

Maybe it is about her.

2.

There is a job offer and she does not come in for a couple of days as she makes up her mind.

There is a new light in the hallway when she finally manages to come back, three days into a fight with Ron and no way closer to deciding. The air is thick and smells of concealed decay. It has been raining for days and she is confused. There were not supposed to be any fights, she was not supposed to feel this empty.  
The blue haired healer is standing in the hallway with a concerned expression on her face and at first Hermione ignores her, but then the implication of what it means that she is standing there hits her and she runs, jeans sticking to her legs from the rain and her hair plastered to her cheek and she only stops when she is half way across the room and he is right in front of her.

Her mind registers everything at once. He is awake and looking at her his eyebrows raised in what seems like genuine surprise and he is breathing and she is standing in the room that she has thus far only seen from outside.

Not that there is much to see.

The adrenaline from the surprise of seeing her fades and she watches as he struggles to keep his eyes open. The blue haired healer walks in passed her, pulls a wand and mutters a spell and she watches him loose the battle to stay awake. It is an awkward loss, one that does not come easy, and she does not know how long she is watching it but when she comes to her senses, the blue haired healer is gone and she is alone with only the buzzing spell that is supposed to add something to his blood, for company.  
Hermione sits down on the edge of the bed awkwardly, she does not dare wake him and watches the walls blur into a white and purple mess as tears fill her eyes.

3.

She comes in every day and he is asleep most days so she sits there and watches the walls and counts the number of times his chest rises and the number of times it falls.

4.

She comes in and he is not asleep for once. He is even sitting up and reading the newspaper.

She has time to brace herself against the doorframe breath in and walk into the room calmly. She pulls the paper in his hands down a bit only in time to find him looking at her expectantly, diminishing all of her hopes that he had not in fact, hear her walk in. He looks ghastly but alert, the buzzing of another constant spell blurs into the background and is carried away on the heels of the blue haired healer who walks into the room and out again without being noticed.

She smiles at him and sits down at the edge of the bed. He is thinner than ever before, his sallow skin seems to be hanging off bones and there is no one to cut or even comb his hair but he looks at her and his eyes are clear. The wound around his neck is a mess of flesh and wires and she does not even want to know what kind of magic is involved there.

She is staring so intently that he has to nudge her a couple of times before she realizes that he is offering her the paper. She blinks and takes it from him. There is an unflattering picture of her entering the hospital and an article suggesting various theories as to why Ron Weasly's fiancé is there.

What is she doing in this hole? This snake pit? With the Death Eater.

She looks up from the paper to find him staring at her for a change, his eyebrow raised and half his mouth curled up into a smirk. It takes her a while to realize that he is teasing. She grimaces and mimics the raised eyebrow and then sticks her tongue out at him.

His face transforms into a look of genuine surprise before he smiles.

And she can't breathe.'

5.

She gets in early the next day holding a brand new paper in her hand proclaiming even more rubbish. She had another fight with Ron but that does not matter for now because she is anticipating the look on his face when he reads this.

The blue haired healer is standing in the hallway again and when she tries to pass her the pudgy old witch steps in her way.  
There are things to discuss apparently but Hermione pushes past her to the room but the door is closed and the curtain is too and she does not understand.

The blue haired witch walks past her. She opens the door for her but Hermione cannot step trough. She doesn't understand and when she does it hurts but she grits her teeth and steps back and watches the curtains open.

His eyes are closed. There is no movement and the blue haired healer only adjusts the blankets.

Hermione stands there watching, watching.

Arms twitch.

Breath stops.

But after that there is so much the body does before it becomes just a body.

And she stands there and watches and watches.


	5. Once in a red moon

**Once in a red moon**

 _Hermione Granger x Tom Riddle Dark Tower AU_

 **Disclaimer: All right before anyone decides to sue my ass, repeat: nothing is mine no money is being made. All things belong to J.K. Rowling and in this case The Master Of Creation aka Stephen King**

 _The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed_

Stephen King, The Gunslinger Dark Tower I

The gunslinger fled across the wastelands and the dark woman followed.

She had been following a trail for the past three weeks but it wasn't until today that she knew who she was following. The wasteland in front of her lay barren and naked holding no hope for redemption. Hermione Granger did not require redemption. She had long passed the stage of begging and hope fled from her the night she had let Tom Riddle lay hands on her skin.

She took out her wand and conjured a flask from thin air putting it to her parched lips. This was the life she knew the life she had been thrust in, born as she was. The life that had taught her to drink when thirsty and eat when hungry and make her own way.

Take what you can't have.

The water in her mouth had a rusty aftertaste. She looked around feeling her skin crawl with the coming of the moon. it would be red tonight. Just the moon she had known the colors of the moon since birth.

She snorted remembering faces with sudden clarity. Her schoolmates, sisters, who thought her mind was a joke. Who thought they could look at her and judged right up until she had stabbed their eyes out with needles. She smiled to herself remembering how Lavender Brown's blood had spurted from her mouth right upon Hermione's the sweet taste of it was still on her tongue. She could conjure it up with ease. Take what you can have.

The sand at her feet was losing the warmth of the day. There was no time for sweet memories. She moved faster ignoring the soreness in her joints and the stinging on her skin. There were worst ways to be touched than by the red moon. Another five hours and she would see her old friend red as blood in the sky. Another five hours and the gunslinger, Tom Riddle would be weak and vulnerable and if fortune wills it hers. She had been running for too long.

She passed the village an hour after the water in her flask had run out. If you could call what she was passing a village. Three houses with scared women within them making the sign of the cross at her as she passed. Hermione could not help a smile, at least he will now she had been here. She would have happily crossed the town of the map but it looked like a place he would have stayed at. Rested. She hated the thought of him resting, his hat over his eye, that dark hair glancing in the sun and the guns at his hip. Guns meant for her.

 _Shoot witches with your arm_

 _See witches with your mind_

 _Burn witches with your heart._

Gunslingers….

She spat on the ground. The village emptied out as she walked through it as usual, only the local bar ignored her presence. Magic did not despite legend, make the wine sour. She stepped inside.

The place was almost empty and smelled of cheap shots and matron looked up as she entered and smiled revealing an empty mouth like the corner, a jukebox was playing an old song that she had not heard since childhood.

 _I was born in a crossfire hurricane and I howled at my ma in the driving rain. But it's aaaaaaaall riight now_

Hermione counted eyes, four in the corner and three on her left at a table nearby plus the much of a thread. And not the eyes she needed.

 _In fact it's a gas_

She sat at the bar and ordered water.

'No water for you, no lodgings for you. Stake for a with.' the matron cackled and poured water on the bar in front of Hermione. The spell was easy enough. She let the water rise drop for drop and took it in her hand. And drank.

'I am looking for a man'

'No mens here dear' the matron looked at her. Her eyes were the blue of summer morning her face round. She was beautiful even smiling. 'No mens here. No no'

'Fine' Hermione said. Her stomach tightened, the moon was coming. She swallowed the last of the water and placed her burning feet back to the hard floor. Just walk she had to just walk to him. Somehow she knew the gunslinger would wait for her.

'I saw a man'

She turned her head towards the voice. The four eyes in the corner. Two of a raven and two of a man. Black as the insides of a prison cell. But not empty.

'What man?'

He made a 'sit down' gesture his hands open, fingers splayed on the table cloths. Sit down I mean no harm. She sat. Her cloak rustling around her.

'The woman in black'

'What man did you see?'

'Many in my lifetime. Witch.'

Hermione made a move to stand but his hand shot out quick and snake like his bony fingers closing on her wrist.

She saw darkness and a woman bony and dead a long time ago. And the dark eyed man on his knees in front of another and….

'A moment'

'Sit down a moment' the raven said.

She frowned. 'It's getting dark. Tell me what man you saw.'

'The right one. But you will not get him, not on this full moon.'

'How do you know?'

He spread his hands again 'Look for yourself'

She summoned the power inside her with ease now and saw gunpowder on his white fingers.

'Burn witches with your heart'

'Gunslinger'

'I was. Once.'

'Was' the raven said.

"You will need a place to spend the night.'

She wanted to protest.

'You will not find him tonight.'

She felt her stomach turn. 'The mood will be red tonight.'

The stranger stood 'That might be so, but you are not in the light yet.'

'You know much of witches.'

'I have been taught much and more. Come.'

She followed him out of the bar and then the village and then he stopped and pointed.

'There is a barn there. You can sleep inside. Make a fire.'

She did. The barn was next to a house of the same make and build as in the village but smaller and crooked somehow.

'Fire' the raven said. And she sat next to it.

The man walked into the house.

Hermione sat and watched the flames and the raven. It was a chilly night

The fire smelled sweet to her. It smelled the way he used to on mornings she woke to see his eyes upon her and his hands fisted in her hair.

'I will give you everything' he would say and the mattress she lay on squicked in confirmation.

'I will renounce the guns.'

And she would lick the sweat of his skin and believe.

'I will give you the world. Place it at your feet and watch you burn it.'

The man returned from the house with stale bread and a paste of some sort. She took the bread. He sat across from her and started ladling the paste on top of his own peace of bread and feeding the raven.

'Who took your guns?' she asked

He looked at her.' Tom Riddle' his eyes burned together with the fire 'In a way.'

'You know where he is then.'

The man nodded.

'In a dream' the raven said.

'What dream?'

'I dream of death so often' he took a bite of his bread and chewed slowly 'I dream of death. But not for you witch.'

She placed her hand to her hair and curled a lock around her finger ' What death then?' There would never be a death for her

The man shrugged 'Burn witches with your heart.'

'Heart' the raven said 'with your heart.'

She could feel her skin crawl. The moon had come up full in the sky.

'I could kill you now.' she said.

'You could. But that would that gain you?''

'A dead gunslinger.'

'It is not my death you seek'

'No.'

The man smiled. The raven hopped on back to his shoulder melting peculiarly with his frame as if he was only now complete. The ma stared at her.

'You will not find him tonight.'

'You seem so certain.'

' Some things we both can see.'

She nodded. ' True'

'You speak well. The sound of your voice is pleasant. I have not heard a pleasant sound in a long time. Speak'

She cocked her head to the side watching him.

'Speak and tomorrow I will tell you what path to take.'

She set her teeth but there was no other way. So she willed her tongue to speak. She spoke of the old days the school and Ron before he found his death on a spear.She spoke of his smile. She spoke until her throat hurt until her fingers bled with the moon. And the man listened to his fill.

'Tomorrow' he said 'Tomorrow I will point you towards Tom Riddle.'

She slept knowing her tomorrow for the first time in a long time.

 **What do you think? Maybe there is more to this story?**


	6. Renegade (regusev)

1.

The first time Regulus Black saw Eileen Prince's son was from under the Sorting eye fell on the boy the same moment the hat shouted ' Slytherin!' and as such the whole school saw Regulus gasp.

He recognised the boy immediately, of course, obsessed as he was with family and family trees. Eileen Prince got burned right off some less significant tapestry depicting some less significant bloodline. But Regulus could see her in her son. He shifted under the hat and did not move until Professor McGonagall nudged him.

 _That hat. I remember the way it fit. I can still see it, the dusty trappings of it, the voice inside my head mixed in with my father's voice calling me insane, calling me filth an insane filthy, dirty nuance that disrupted his world. Only crazy people heard voices in their heads. His voice was so loud that I had no time to entertain the possibility of asking the hat for a House._

 _Did I see you then? No._

 _But I felt you._

There was just so much to look at in the boy. Severus caught his eye and held it, his own eyes cold and calculating but also, Regulus thought a bit frightened. A halve blood with a traitorous mother and an unspeakable father in the house of the snake. That had to be a first. A first Regulus thought, just like his brother was a first in his family. Regulus was never first, not like that anyway.

It took three whole months to get Severus's attention. Regulus knew he had that attention from day one, he could feel eyes burning on his back in every class, could see the deliberate way Severus chose his seat in the great hall. But despite opportunities, the boy never talked to him. First Regulus thought it was because he was younger, then he saw the way he was treated by Sirius, then he saw the way he was treated by Lucius Malfoy.

 _I am watching that hat being placed on a boy with her eyes right now. I don't know what I should be thinking. There's a thing that has not changed over the years. I think I'll choose to think of you. I have a feeling I will be thinking about her quite enough in the coming years. I think I'll choose to think of those first few month, before Black found me a target, before you talked to me._

Regulus had better things on his mind than Malfoy and he could not face Sirius which limited the opportunities he had to talk to the Prince boy.

The little king of Slytherin had been welcomed graciously even by the older students and soon he had his pick in friends and enemies. Handsome, with the right last name and in the right house Regulus had no choice but to fit in.

So that's what he did. He fit in like a pearl fits into it's casing.

Seamless. Thoughtless. Shameless.

Trapped.

 _I didn't understand you. I didn't know why you would be looking at 's why I started staring. I thought at first Black had told you, that you were in on their taunts somehow. That made you dangerous, you could get to me where Black could not._

 _I didn't realize I stared at you because you were beautiful._

.

Trapped.

No one asks the pearl to choose its casing after all. There were late nights in the common room and breakfasts with his friends and classes he excelled at. There were new hats and scarves in green and silver and there was Quidditch. There was his brother not looking at him. There were his new friends who did look.

And all the while he kept watching the greasy haired boy in mismatched clothes.

2.

Turned out all it took to talk to Severus Snape was Lily Evans.

 _He got sorted into Gryffindor. Her son. I don't know whether to be surprised. He seems to already have friends there. Just like her. The moment she sat on that side of the table I knew I had lost her. But I kept trying. Shall I blame myself for that? Also for that? All the months I kept trying when I could have been spending them with you. Is that a bad thought to have?_

 _Am I blaming her for blinding me?_

 _Can you forgive me?_

3.

Regulus walked up to the crowded Quidditch pit and almost collided with a blond girl in a Gryffindor scarf. The girl looked at him and shoved her friend.

Regulus knew Lily Evans of course. So he let those green eyes stare at him long enough to make the necessary connection.

'There' Lily said 'go with him.'

It was only then that Regulus actually saw Severus. His scarf carefully neutral of colour, was hitting him in the face repeatedly, caught in a strong wind. Severus didn't seem to see or feel that however, his eyes were on Lily and his face was ashen.

 _I remember that day. I thought you were a nuance. Arrogant. You never fitted in with the rest of us. Not truly. You were above it all. Apart from the rest of us. A curiosity with a brother in Gryffindor house. I thought you were weak._

 _If I had halve the things you had, money, popularity I would have used them. Gained more of whatever it was I wanted. There is a hunger in those of us who have nothing or think they have nothing. I thought I would gain all the things I craved. But here I am still craving._

 _I truly thought you were weak._

 _Funny how things change right?_

'But Quidditch' he stammered 'You said..'

'I know, I just want to sit with Gryffindor. Just once.' Lily said. Regulus watched the scene silently. He watched as Lily Evans turned, her own scarf in the wind and walked towards the Gryffindor stands. He watched Severus still standing there rigid and straight, mouthing the words ' you said' and frowning. He watched and watched until he couldn't anymore.

'Come on' he said ' the game is about to start.'

To his surprise Severus turned and followed him towards the green and silver part of the stands. They reached the second highest seats and Regulus stopped. He liked the spot right next to the goal posts it was out of the wind usually and he could see enough of the game to keep him interested. Severus did not stop looking towards the highest stand where Lucius Malfoy sat surrounded by his cronies.

 _Albus is happy at least. I can tell. The golden boy got into the golden house I suppose. I wonder what would have happened if he got into Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff instead? Or Slytherin. Yes I am smirking. You always knew when I would be. It was my tell you said. One of many._

 _I can't permit tells now._

 _I thought I didn''t have them back then. I thought back then that I had options._

 _All that confusion. Lily and you and Slytherin and the Dark Lord. I thought I made my own choices. I thought I knew how to make choices. I didn't know._

 _But you did didn't you?_

 _Why did you do the things you did? Why did you come for me?_

Regulus shook his head 'I am not sitting with that. Come on' he pointed to the two seats that he had selected and again to his surprise the Prince boy followed. The game started with a sharp whistle and immediately the two seekers were in the air, higher than the rest circling the game field like vultures. Regulus glanced at his new neighbor. He wasn't watching the game. Instead his dark eyes were tailored to the Gryffindor stands where Lily Evans could no longer be seen between all the red and gold.

'Just watch the game' Regulus said getting irritated. Lily Evans was just a girl, just a pretty girl.

Severus put his head on his palms 'We will lose' he declared in a bored tone.

'You don't know that.'

 _I didn't know of course. What would happen. All I knew was that we would lose. I knew that all my life. It was an instinct. Knowing that you are on the losing side. There is no match or game theory or particular formula to it._

 _It's a heart condition._

 _I knew we would lose. I just didn't realize I would lose you first._

Snape shrugged and pointed ' The snitch is there.'

Regulus looked to where Severus pointed an empty spot next to the middle goal post 'There is nothing there.'

'Not yet' Severus said in that same bored tone.

The game continued Regulus watched Slytherin gain the upper hand, watched as the snitch appeared at exactly the spot Severus had pointed out, watched James Potter catch the snitch in mere seconds. He glanced at Snape. The boy was sitting in exactly the same position staring at a point in the Gryffindor crowd his face a mask of pain. Regulus sat quietly next to him as the stadium emptied and night started to court the sky.

4.

 _Dumbledore says he will return. He who must not be named The Dark Lord. You know who. I always hated that name. It's made him sound like a madman in a children's tale. My life doesn't feel like a children's tale to me._

 _I promised him something. Dumbledore I mean. I know, we both promised to the Dark Lord as well. But I am not going to talk to you about that._

 _He promised something in return. It is quite poetic. I think he cried. I cried._

 _He thinks he knows the best of me._

 _He doesn't._

'How did you know?' Regulus had gotten cold even beyond the workings of a warming charm.

'She likes a side view.'

Regulus frowned ' I mean the snitch. How did you know the snitch would be there?'

Severus started and glanced at him as if only now realizing that Regulus was still there. 'Magic marker' he said indifferently ' the snitch as a magical object is charmed to be attracted to magic and at the same time be repelled by it. It's why it has flesh memories to keep it interested in wizards. All you need to do is determine the point where the magic during the game will be the strongest. The snitch will gravitate towards it. It has no choice.'

Regulus' eyes widened. ' You can see magic like that?'

' Of course not.' Snape grumbled ' You just need to know the amount of magic embedded in the other objects used in the game and the strength of the wizards playing the game. Logic will then give you the point in the atmosphere of the field where the magic is the strongest. The marker.' he shrugged ' It's really boring.'

 _I don't know if there ever was a best of me to begin with. You thought so. At some point. To some extent. I lied you know. I actually like Quidditch. My House has a team that hardly ever loses._

 _Although something tells me that will be over soon._

 _Do you know why I like Quidditch so much?_

 _It makes me think of you._

The two boys stood, moving against the wind and lit their wands to be able to see in the darkness. Regulus watched the quiet boy next to him. He knew that Severus watched the Quidditch game from a neutral point in the stands. Together with Lily Evans. He had seen the two of them sitting in between the Gryffindor and Slytherin seats next to the teachers. Apparently, Evans had had enough of that.

'Why don't you like Lucius Malfoy?'

Regulus smiled. They had reached the middle of the playing field, the dark shapes of the goal posts were behind them now.

'He is too eager.' Regulus said opting for honesty.' To show off his wealth to impress...well you know who he wants to impress.'

Snape nodded once quickly to indicate he was still listening but gave no other reaction.

'Also, he is in love. It's really boring.'

'How do you know that?'

''He has a very permanent tell.'

'What?'

'Everyone has a tell, you just have to know where to look for it. My mother taught me that.' Regulus said.

'Do I have a tell?' Severus asked. Regulus recognised the eagerness in his voice. Everyone had a tell and everyone thought they were the exception that did not have one. He decided to opt for honesty.

' Yes.'

Snape stopped as if paralyzed. His face that had been expressionless a moment ago was now twisted into a grimace of rage.

'Everyone has one.' Regulus said again.

'Tell me mine.'

 _You did._

 _Not right there right away but at some point you did. To you I was a collection of tells. An open book as much as you detested the expression. To me you were a marker. Attract and detract. The strongest point in a sea of magic._

 _It should have been her. I made sure it was her. I damned her._

 _What else was there to damn after you damned yourself so effectively. After you took yourself out of the equation._

Regulus shook his head.

'Why not? I told you about the Quidditch.'

'I didn't ask you to tell me that.'

Severus frowned 'True.' He said after a long pause. Regulus could see him thinking.

They had reached the corridor and took the stairs towards the dungeons. Two portraits stared in their direction.

'It's late if we get caught' Regulus said.

'I never get caught.'

'Never?'

The boy shook his head.

5.

 _I should've followed you. I should have known. I should have done something. But you were right in the end you never got caught._

 _You disappeared._

 _You left. I think._

 _And I get to play the part of reformed Death Eater. I get to have one great love. I get to have Dumbledore's approval. I get to live._

 _It's nice when things are nice. You used to say that and laugh that maniacal full laugh of yours. Laugh like there were devils on your heels. It's nice when things are nice._

 _I have to stand now. Go on behind the old man. I need to tell my new students that they have not been condemned to nothingness. I need to teach them. I need to stop seeing her eyes in his face. They are back Lily and James both of them and I am scared and I want to run and I have a feeling your brother might return too. Everyone will return to me but you._

 _You and me we never get caught._

 _I think I need to be more like you now. I hope I can be more like you. I hope it will not drive me insane. I hope to see you when it does._


	7. Starshaping (dramione)

There are different ways of remembering pain. Some make us look heroic and we chose them. Some make the pain bearable in memory, so we chose them. Humans usually pick the things that benefit them in some way. The things that make existing lighter.

Draco Malfoy chose the opposite.

Or rather, the opposite chose him.

'What utter bullshite.'

Hermione smiled.

'You don't like it?' she said turning to face him. She sat watching the starlight dance across his bare feet, one hand on the manuscript in front of her, the other buried deep in the wet earth. The night was cold and she could smell something of autumn in the air. Wet leaves and late bloom flowers. She breathed in counting her heartbeats not looking at his bare feet.

'Humans choose pain?' he huffed sitting beside her his eye on the manuscript in her hand.

' You'll catch a cold.'

He didn't respond.

' I am your official biographer. Your mother hired me. I am getting paid. Good money I might add.'

He sneered 'Yes I am aware. You are getting paid to restore my tarnished reputation.'

'To tell a story.'

'Preferably one they'll like.'

Hermione looked down at the words in her hand. 'I try my best.'

'Try harder.'

She glanced at him. In the pale light of the moon, his face looked almost translucent. There should always be a moon shining on your skin she thought. Then hid the thought away for a better moment.

'Do you care if I try harder?' she asked to have something to do besides look at his face.

'My mother cares. She thinks this book will free me.' He picked up a pebble and threw it in the water. It bounced two times and sank. Draco smirked.

They sat in silence for a while ignoring his hand creeping into hers.

'Have you thought of a title?'

Hermione shivered.

'I thought you didn't care.'

'Well you are my official biographer.'

She didn't bother looking at him. She could hear the quote marks in his tone.

'Starshaping'

He laughed. 'You are kidding me.'

She shrugged and moved closer. The fabric of his shirt felt too light on her skin.

'Your mother liked it.'

'She likes anything with stars in them.'

'I thought it might be fitting.' she said and squeezed his fingers. She could feel his breathing, the notes of it on her skin. In. Out. In again.

'I thought it migh-' she started then realized she had said that already. Draco didn't respond.

'You can choose a name if you like.'

He turned to her. 'I think I am done choosing names for myself. Let my mother do it. And you if you want to.'

'I do want to.' she said counting breaths she no longer knew to be his or hers. In. Out. In. Out.

'Good' he said and rested his forehead against hers.'Good.'


End file.
